A letter from the editor/owner-proprietor/featured columnist.

Splashdown!

Your strings have been cut.

Splosh!

You hit the hit the ice-cold, oxygen-free, liquid prison beneath. You are home. You are David Blaine. And you’ve brought this upon yourself. Was it for a dare? Or just because your brother-law wouldn’t shut up about how impossible it was. None of that matters now. What matters is, you’ve made a huge fucking mistake and the lid is about to be sealed on.

Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit! Why did you specifically tell them to ignore your last-minute change-of-heart? You are so shitting predictable. And also very nearly dead.

A few seconds of inaudible screams, frantic slow-motion punches against the impenetrable-by-design glass casing, one short-lived attempt to bite through it, all pass. You stop struggling. Resigned to the after-life (probably more of the same if you’ve fathered as many vengeful illegitimate children as Blaine). You open wide and let the water in.

And in that moment you feel peace. But more than that, clarity. A new understanding of the world. Yes this is the end, but think what life would have been like had you actually succeeded in this ludicrous 30-day under-water sit-in. Your perspex cube was designed to show the world you were ever-present 24/7, but after a week or so, the build-up of every manner of human excretion has made it irreversibly opaque, and floating turds in a piss-filled tank isn’t a sight to bring a crowd. Not for the first time, you set out to show the world you’re a hero and finished a silhouette drowned in your own faeces.

This is the Sphinctank. We are that clarity. We will drain the swamp and refill your Perspex cube over and over again so that you can fill it yourself with piss and shit, mucus and ejaculate, vomit and blood, but be cleansed, eau naturale!

In my opinion: it is impossible to disprove any statement prefaced by the phrase “in my opinion”. That is a fact. In the age of fake news and post truth the only thing you can truly rely on is pure unadulterated intravenous opinion.

I say it therefore it is so. If opinion is your trumpet then breath in and blow me!